The Pranking Founders: Stone of Mysteries
by Alexandre Jae Keiran Thompson
Summary: Everyone knows that the four founders died years after making and teaching at Hogwarts. But what they didn't know that every century, they will come back under new identities to do something history knows not of. To course mischief yet help improve their beloved castle. Book 1 of the Pranking Founders Series.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Lord Salazar Ouroboros Jörmungandr Slytherin. Lord Godric Leonardo Nemean Gryffindor. Lady Helga Melis Tanuki Hufflepuff. Lady Rowena Aquila Nightingale Ravenclaw.

These Four Pillars of Modern Magical British Society and the Four Founders of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. They each valued different traits for their houses that are present in all – Godric took in those brave, chivalrous and courageous; Helga took in the hard-workers, the kindest and the most loyal; Rowena to in the intelligent, wise learners; Salazar the cunning, ambitious and clever ones. Each four friends, despite their major differences, and each earning a Peerage in both the magical and normal world.

History had painted Godric the pro-muggleborn hero; Helga the motherly and non-fighting protector; Rowena the bookworm and the one who did the Great Hall's ceiling; and Salazar the evil wizard who ran away and left a monster in the chamber of secrets.

But history didn't paint was the fact that all four had one thing in common.

Pranks and Tricks.

 ** _September 1_** ** _st_** ** _, 1991_**

"Potter, Hadrian."

Silence. That was all that was heard throughout the Great Walls of Hogwarts. Nothing could be heard; not a pin, person nor ghost. On the student's faces, there were looks of awe, surprise, curiosity, anger and disgust, some had a combination of those emotions or all of them.

Then, just as quick as the silence came there were now whispers flowing around the group of students as all of them leaned out of or stood up from their seats so they could see the sorting hat, hoping to catch a glimpse at the 'Boy-Who-Lived', as the British Magical Community referred to her as.

Everyone knew what his name was. Everyone knew of how she defeated Lord Voldemort on October 31st, 1981 at the age of one. Everyone knew that helooked just like his father with his mother's eyes.

Or so they thought they knew.

Harry Potter was a tall boy for his age, almost the height of a boy one year his senior. His skin was ivory white, wrapped around his body and face to show a lean and agile body and a perfect strong face. His hair was so dark it was like you were looking into a void. It was so long that he had tied it at the nape of his neck, but a few stands still came down to frame his face. The most interesting part was his eyes. They were a venomous forest green; the dark pupils almost seemed snake-like. His hair also hid his forehead somehow, as they couldn't see the infamous lightning-bolt star on his head.

If they knew anything about him in that instant, it was just one thing. He didn't look exactly like the late Lord James Potter nor did he had the late Lady Lillian Potter's emerald green eyes.

As the boy sat down with grace, facing the student body, they saw that he showed no emotions crossing either his face nor his eyes. In fact, he looked like he was bored of everything going on.

The last thing Harry saw before the hat was put on him was everyone trying to get a better look at him.

Mentally, he smirk as he felt the probes of the Sorting Hat brush against a wall in his mind while looking at what he wanted it to look at. He could also hear silent giggles and laughter in the back of his conscience as the Hat looked through what he thought was everything the boy had to show to him, though it was barely a drop of what he knew or was.

" **Your mind is quite interesting, Mr. Potter** ," The Sorting Hat muttered to the boy, digging more as though he was a dedicated miner looking for evidence of even more gold than what he had already found. Harry remain still and silent, following the probes diligently as it trailed deeper into the parts of her mind that the Sorting Hat currently had access to.

" **Now where should I sort you. You have the traits of a Gryffindor, bravery yet only when it is of personal interest. You are intelligent like a Ravenclaw yet you don't want to learn of the sake of learning. You are loyal like Hufflepuffs generally are, but only to those who have earn it. But your cunning, ambition and cleverness are clearly abundant, perfect for a Slytherin**."

" **Quite accurate, Mr. Sebastian** ," Harry said, his mental voice softer and older than what you would expect from a 11 year old boy.

" **I have to be, for my job is to so-… what did you call me?** " The Sorting Hat asked, his curiosity and surprise clear in his mental voice as he stopped as the boy's words registered themselves to him.

" **You heard me, Sebastian** ," Harry mentally snickered to herself, before she bombarded the hat with a lot of memories that only one person would ever have in his thousand years of service and would still be alive.

" **YOU SLIPPERY BASTARD! Every time that you come back, you always DO THAT!** " The Sorting Hat shouted at him, the boy shrugging slightly while mentally laughing along with the hidden presences still protected from the hat's presence.

" **You should know me by now, Sebastian. Now, can you sort me into my house. I swear upon the Ancient Gods that my house needs to be re-educated about what my values stand for…** " Harry grumbled as he pouted to Sebastian, who growled at him for his trick.

" **You are not the only one I had to yell at today or back then, Salazar…** " "SLYTHERIN!" " **…the others always do the same thing as well…** "

" **Time to 'face the music' as the mundane saying goes** ," Harry… no Salazar… murmured softly as he took Sebastian off of his head carefully with a smirk. The Hall was silent again, though this time the emotions on everyone's faces were different. Almost everyone had either a shocked, anguished, fearful or surprised look or a combination of any of them. However, only three people had smirks on their faces; one sitting at the Gryffindor Table, one at the Hufflepuff Table and one still waiting to be sorted.

He simply walked over to the Slytherin Table, who started clapping politely at their 'newest' addition.

He simply hoped, and prayed, to the Gods above that his Slytherins were not as lost as he thought they were…


	2. Chapter 2: Beginnings

Darkness. A truly unique being. It was not evil, like many people thought. It was not good either. It is just is. It exist yet it represents non-existence. It was both oppressive yet protective in its own way.

Darkness was the constant companion of a young boy who was laying on his back, eyes glazed over with overwhelming pain. His skin was like an bad artist just decided to randomly put splashes of blue and black against a pale canvas, while putting streams of red coming from his nose and the bottom half of his body.

His dark raven hair was clumped up with dried blood, his dried blood. His head had a shallow yet free-flowing wound that will scar over. Around his pelvic area was bruises that resembled large hand print, his anus was bleeding from the tearing it received from his uncle-by-marriage, Vernon Dursley.

His glazed emerald eyes knew nothing but pain, fear and violation. He didn't know why his uncle hated him. For all of his short 10 years of life, he knew that his uncle hated him and his 'freakishness'.

But those emerald orbs did know one other thing. A tiny bit of love. For the aunt who showed him love in private. His Aunt Petunia, his mother's sister, had cared for him. Had tended to his pain and hurts. Had made sure he was treated right behind her husband's back and knew his name. Harry Potter. And had made sure that her son, Dudley, didn't bully his cousin whenever she could. Dudley, however, was his father's son, and made sure to torment him physically and mentally.

But Harry knew he was different from his aunt and the rest of his relatives. He felt off, like his body wasn't his own. Like he wasn't meant to be here. Like he was supposed to do something. It nagged him constantly, especially when he was thrown into his cupboard. Every time a freak accident happened, he felt elated, like he was doing something he loved and cherished. But he didn't know why, so he hid it behind a mask. A mask that hid the truth from others about the pain and suffering he had to endure.

He had read about what his uncle started to do, and found out that his uncle was raping him! A crime punishable with life in prison, especially to a minor. He desperately want to tell the police, but the one time he attempted to do so, his Uncle caught him and took him so roughly that he knew better than to try again.

This had went on for all of Harry's life, but on the 25th July, 1991, everything changed.

-0OoO0-

July 25th, 1991

4th Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

It started as a typical morning for young Harry Potter.

He was startled out of the realm of Morpheus by his cousin jumping onto the stairs above, causing the dust to rain down upon him. He was used to this type of wake up call, unfortunately, and quietly got into the newest yet best rags he owned.

He got out of his prison and walked towards his torturer with no noise, his ruined shoes giving away not his position. He knew what he had to do, and he had to do it with no faults at all. Especially if Vernon was at the table.

Which he was, and had a frightening smirk on his pig-like face. This meant both but pain and fear for Harry but sick pleasure and dominance for Vernon.

Harry began to make the full English Breakfast, making sure all are cooked but not burnt. It was tedious for him to cook this but to never eat it himself. He hadn't eaten for a week and a half now, and knew he wouldn't be eating anything anytime soon. Not with Vernon's emotional state.

As he was making the tea while serving his cooking to Vernon, Dudley and Petunia, who was worried for him but was only shown in her eyes, the door-flap went, signally that letters had been delivered. Harry finished the tea and gave them out before she left, heading the the door which led to freedom. Well, not really. It lead to scorn from the neighbours and bullying from the children.

As he went through the three letters, he saw a bill, a letter from Aunt Marge and ... a letter for him?! He looked around, trying to find anyone or anything that could see the letter. He started to walk back, putting his letter under the cupboard door without breaking stride, and gave the other letters to Vernon. He began to clean up breakfast quickly while making sure the dishes had no speck of food or marks left. Petunia had taken Dudley out so he could play his games before Vernon grabbed the boy roughly, before he began to rape him again.

He couldn't cry, he couldn't feel anything but pain, complete and utter pain. He wanted to be back in the darkness of his cupboard. Back to the darkness that made him feel safe. Back to a being that protected him like a mother would her child.

Soon, he felt his uncle release in him, but he did nothing. He couldn't do anything. He was nothing. Nothing but a sex toy and a servant to his uncle.

He was thrown into his cupboard, the bruises and blood painful against his skin. The darkness hugged him into its embrace, calming his blazing pain. It was peaceful.

He then remembered the mysterious letter just as the door slammed shut under the force called Vernon. He didn't move until the rumble of his car had faded away from the house. Harry moves slowly, as not to agitate his wounds, and picked up the heavy parchment envelope. The sense of familiarity hit him as he stared at it, the faint light from the hallway outside his prison illuminating the rectangle in front of him.

It was a yellowing parchment with an emerald green ink saying:

 _ **Hadrian James Arvind Potter**_

 _ **Cupboard Under the Stairs**_

 _ **4 Privet Drive**_

 _ **Little Whinging**_

 _ **Surrey**_

The colour of the green made the feeling of familiarity grow stronger, and he wanted to turn the letter over. But he didn't. He wouldn't without his Aunt. Aunt Petunia had shared a few short memories of his mother's foray in the world of Magic and a bit about Hogwarts, which he knew the letter was from.

He silently undid the lock - his Aunt showed him how - and snuck out, sneaking up to his Aunt's room. She had told him to go there whenever he got his letter the first time and the times after that.

However, when he arrived at the neutral, creamy coloured room, he didn't find his Aunt. He knew he was not allowed in hereby his Uncle, so he exited the room without a sound.

"Auntie?" Came the soft whisper that was Harry's voice. A reminder of Harry's first, remembered, punishment when Vernon punch his voice box hard enough to do severe damage. It took a time in the ICU to heal, since he needed help breathing, but his speech volume remain soft ever since. However, he was taught to sign whenever his voice gave up on him by the doctors who dealt with those with voice difficulties, and his Aunt also join in so she could understand her nephew.

Thankfully, his Aunt's ever so sharp ears picked up the word and said, "In the attic, Harry. You will be helping me clean up!"

Harry hurried to the attic ladder as fast as he possibly could, which was slow due to his Uncle's latest attack. He, with some difficulty, went up the ladder into the dusty attic, limping to his Aunt who had a First Aid kit with her. She picked up the kit and her nephew before walking to the farthest corner of the attic, which was where she slept when Vernon was in any mood but neutral or he was drunk. It was the cleanest corner with a old but nice bed. The bed sheets was brown with copper-coloured decorations and trims. She had a trunk with held all of her clothes.

She laid her nephew onto the bed, being careful as she went. She began cleaning him up, the boy relaxing as her soft and soothing humming distracted her from cleaning the blood away from his pelvic region. After patching him up, Petunia places the bloody and used products into a waste bag, waiting for her to take out.

Emerald eyes made contact with blue eyes, the spark of hope diminished slightly. She knew he was scared, that he was breaking. She knew the only thing he cared about in this cruel world was her and only her. she didn't know why, but she took the trust and made a bond stronger than her bond with her own child.

"Why were you calling for me, Har," Petunia whispered her question, still making eye contact while grasping his right hand.

"Auntie, the letter came," Harry softly smiled, his left hand holding up the parchment she somehow missed. Petunia's eyes glistened as she leaned forward and kisses his forehead.

"Let's open it, dear. Your mother and father would be very proud of you this day," Petunia encouraged her young charge, as Harry flipped the letter over to the side that showed the waxed version of the Hogwarts seal.

Harry examines the seal, taking in every detail, but when he saw the snake symbol he froze. Petunia noticed this immediately. Before she could ask if he was OK, Harry grasped his head as agony, pure agony, left his mouth in a blood-curling scream. Petunia quickly covered his mouth, stifling the screams as she made sure Harry's hands got away from his head - fresh blood was flowing from the new wounds caused by his nails. She felt pain as the stifled screaming continued, hoping that her son didn't hear it. If he did, than Vernon heard would hear of it and punish Harry even more for disturbing his son.

What felt like days for her, but it was about half an hour in real time, Harry slumped in her arms as unconsciousness caught up with him. He was twitching still like he was electrocuted still, hands tending and relaxing within half a millisecond of each other. Petunia could never tell anybody this, but in that half hour she felt true terror and fear Her nephew, who is the son she always wanted yet didn't have, had went through agony, and she couldn't do anything to ease it. He was still in pain, at least she thought so, so she let him stay in her bed and did something she should of years ago. Make a make-shift bedroom up here with her in the attic so he could be a bit safer from Vernon.


	3. Chapter 3: Lost Memories and Truths

All was black to Harry. He couldn't see, hear or feel the outside world nor his Aunt's plea to wake up. He couldn't flex a single muscle in his body, not even a twitch.

But what he was experiencing was true agony as memories overflowed him, while his mind and soul was breaking down to bring up a lost mindset and personality of a man. A man feared and reviled by the population. A man made infamous for his ability to talk to snakes. A man thought evil and dark. And his name? He was Salazar Ouroboros Jörmungandr Slytherin. The Founder of the House of Slytherin. The Co-Founder of Hogwarts. And an immortal who has lived for over a thousand years with his fellow founders and familiars.

Harry ... no, Salazar, mentally frowned as he took in the state of his mind. Mind Magicks was his speciality along with blood and ancient magicks, and his mind was a complete and utter mess of memories, knowledge and recordings of sounds, scents, tastes, emotions, touch and sights. He began to shift through his mind, starting from the start of his life to now.

'Damn it...' came the soft mental voice. It wasn't full of confidence and surety like most would expect nowadays. He lived the same life as he did as Harry. Abused in all ways possible by a male figure, a sibling/cousin that bullies him and a female figure trying to give him the love he needed. He was rescued from that life by Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw and Hector Hufflepuff.

It took a long time to shift through, maybe a day at most in the realm of reality. He saw what happened to the true Harry and his parents. The young boy is dead, living to a week old due to his heart having a fatal defect, which failed him, and his parents joining him over a year later due to Voldemort. He had spoken to the heartbroken couple and told them about the dangers of being light or dark at that moment in time. He also gave them a way to be parents by using his metamorphic abilities to become a baby that looked like the true Hadrian. They even blood adopted him - with his acceptance - as to make it more authentic and to fool the entire community. He even had to erase all records of Harry dying.

At least the family was all together in their final rest.

Once the events of Halloween 1981 were sorted, he had to sort through another childhood of abuse of all kinds. He felt like weeping and shivering as the memories went by him while the sorting happened, that he knew he had changed from what he had been before becoming Harry. He would be similar to what he was like when he was rescued.

When his memories was sorted properly, he just floated in his mind, taking in everything. He was still Harry Potter. Lord James and Lady Lillian Potter died to Voldemort. Voldemort is still out there, he knew this. He had a cursed scar on his forehead. He was unable to transform - possibly due to the scar. He had lived through two abused childhoods in the same lifetime. He wanted to free his new Aunt - and possibly Dudley - from Vernon's tight grasp on their collars. He knew not the time due to not having waken up but as soon as he could, he would take Petunia to the Wizarding vaults in Gringotts so they can get away from Vernon. He would try to get the young boy away from his abusive father, and lived life properly.

But none of this could happen while he was still in his mind. He had to wake up.

-0OoO0-

Petunia was fretted with worry and concern. It has been a day since Harry collapsed and she had taken his place doing the chores that he usually did. Vernon asked where the 'freak' was, and she made sure to get him to 'let the boy have a rest day' due to him being sick. She managed to convince her husband that if the boy was contagious, it could hurt Dudley. Vernon agreed to that, but she knew he was planning on getting back at the boy for getting sick and putting his son at 'great risk'.

Once the fat pig had left the house, taking Dudley shopping - it was Saturday - Petunia stopped working and made her way up to the attic to check on her ward. She slowly made her way towards the unconscious child and sat down beside him, holding his hands firmly.

A few minutes a silence went by when Harry's eyes twitched slightly open. Petunia felt happiness flow through her as her nephew and child started to wake up, with a tiny bit of a struggle, but was joining the realm of reality. She scanned his body, and was shock to find only scars left. No terrible bruises or flowing blood could be found, only healed scars. The self inflicted wounds on his face were also scarred, disfiguring the lightning scar in the process.

When he finally opened his eyes fully, she noticed that his eyes were different. They were not a dark emerald colour like before. Now she was staring into a forest that has never seen true light, only tiny bits that got through the thick canopies.

"Harry, are you ok dear," Petunia asked, concern leaking through without restraint. Harry turn to face her, eyes seemingly searching her.

"Yes, Auntie," Harry said, voice even softer than before but had a presence that wasn't present anywhere in his life. His rubbed his throat gingerly, grimacing. Petunia swiftly got a water bottle she had left by his bed and gave it to him.

\- Thanks - He signed out, taking a small sip.

"It's OK, Har. Can I ask you a question?" Petunia asked, shifting slightly in her current position; sitting on the side of his bed.

\- You already asked one, but you can ask another - Harry smirk as his hands said her sarcastically. Petunia blinked at the sarcasm, which made him put his hands down and wring them painfully while frowning. She grabbed both of his hands and looked directly into his eyes.

"Why are you eyes different now? And what happened when you looked at the Hogwarts Crest?" Petunia shot off, though she did so easily. Harry blinked, before looking to his right, seemingly in thought.

\- My eyes were like this before. They are my natural eye colour. And the crest ... I don't know but it gave me back my memories - Harry signed stiffly after Petunia let his hands go.

"Natural eye colour? Gave you back your memories?" Petunia looked confused at that.

"It's hard to explain. But I will try to explain. Can you remain quiet until the end, please?" Harry whispered, looking at Petunia pleadingly.

"OK, Har-bear. I will remain quiet until you tell me to," Petunia said seriously before sitting fully on the bed, getting comfortable for the story the boy before her would say.

\- The beginning started 1000 years ago ... - Harry started to sign.

He told Petunia that he was originally called Salazar Slytherin. He was the Lord of the Houses of Slytherin. He lived with an abusive father, younger brothers and a sister who bullied him and made him a servant in his own home, and a mother who tried everything she could to keep him from too much harm. She was hated by everyone due to his father telling them how much of a bastard he was. Salazar was abused in all ways, especially sexually.

When he was fifteen, his father's shouting caught the attention of three travellers - a young man and two young women. They chose to investigate what was going on and found his father raping him for vanishing his younger sister's hair in a fit of irritation and for being the devil. The young man knock him off - and out - of Salazar while the two women began to protect and heal his wounds. The young heir was frightened of the two women, and shrunk back when they attempt to comforted him.

His mother came in and nearly burst into tears upon seeing a young man defending her son - her only true child - and two young women trying to help him. Salazar caught her eyes and, after a nod that said yes to him, began to let the two women near him to heal him.

After the young man defeated his father and killed him - making Salazar head of the Slytherin family - one of his brothers came in. He saw his father and became enraged, attempting to kill one of the saviours of the eldest brother. This caused his mother to step in front of the deadly blade of the knife to protect her child, which killed her immediately. After a moment of shock, Salazar shakily got up and began to duel his younger brother, with ended up killing the younger boy. He than disowned his siblings from the families of Slytherin.

He had joined in on his saviours' adventure, immediately learning their names. Godric Gryffindor. Rowena Ravenclaw. Helga Hufflepuff.

He was taught magic from the three, a thing that separated him from his father that filled him with joy. He was a fast learning, especially in the mind, blood and darker parts of magic. He revolutionised the three areas, and Parselmagicks became his favourite area of magic after they had done a blood ritual to see their special talents. He was also told that he was a mundane born, born to those with no talent in magic. A true mundane born. He learned the Godric and Helga were Purebloods while Rowena was a half-blood to a noble family.

When he had reached 21, the four had founded their dream and had finish building a school for magical children to learn and be safe from the mundane people (those with no magical talents). They made four houses that they sorted the children into (which was Salazar's job). The houses were Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Salazar wanted his house to be called but than decided to smite his father.

He took in those who were cunning or needed protection and help from their mundane family. His house took in those like him, especially the abused children. And they were tricksters, which Salazar found a passion for after accidentally pranking Godric. He was frightened at first, fearing rejection, but when Godric laughed and told him it was alright, Salazar finally smiled brightly.

After teaching them for about 25 years, an old man came up to them. He had told them that he was granted immortality by the gods above, which made them laugh (Salazar was thoughtful during this). He was asked to prove it by Godric, and he did. With Salazar. He had no time to react, the man grabbed him and injected something into his arm. It burnt like nothing else. Not even the abuse by his family felt this bad. He barely made out his friends collapsing as they were also injected with the thing the old man had. The old man sneered over him as he picked Salazar up, smirking before hissing as Salazar opened his eyes and attacked him.

It was a close battle. In which he found out the old man was his youngest brother. He had become a vampire, and he and his friends were injected with his venom. But Salazar didn't care. He killed him with fire magicks, which was painful to him as he withered away.

He helped Godric and the girls up, before explaining what had happened after they were injected with the venom.

They talked about it, and decided that it was the best for the children and others to leave. But due to the connection Hogwarts had to Salazar, they decided to come back every century to check up on the school, and become students for seven years. Salazar created the Sorting hat, Sebastian, out of Godric' hat and the four put their input and personality into the hat so Sebastian could sort the students correctly.

During their travels over the first century away from Hogwarts, they found out they were Elemental Vampires. Salazar fed on the water Element, Godric the fire, Helga the earth and Rowena the air. They also found their familiars. Salazar, a basilisk he named Seraphina, Godric a Phoenix he named Gloria, Rowena a Thunderbird names Raven and Helga an Pegasus named Hector.

During their first return, they had made an agreement with the ghosts not to reveal them and had placed Seraphina in his chamber to protect the school from inside and outside dangers.

They began their acting, but always stayed top of the class. They pranked everyone, the teachers include. That was all Salazar who did the teachers while in his own house, as his house was starting to lose itself to blood supremacy.

This continued from than to now. He had watched as Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, caused much to damage Slytherin's reputation. He claimed that Salazar was a pure blood bigot. How could he when he was from a mundane family. The old man even manipulated his own side of this turf war, which lead to the events of 1981. To the death of the parents he wished he had. The couple he would do anything to bring back.

Petunia was in tears at the thought. Even if he wasn't by birth, Salazar was her nephew in all that matters.

"What do we do now?" The woman asked, her blue eyes scanning his form.

"Now? We could write a letter back saying yes, if you want to..." Salazar murmured, his hands having to be restrained by Petunia's hands before they could start wringing.

"Your idea is a good one. We do that, then we leave this dump," Petunia whispered kindly, giving the Serpent Lord a small, warm smile. Salazar's dark green eyes gain the dim sparkle that showed his hope and love for her, taking in the compliment.


End file.
